A Song of Faded Dreams
by The Emerald Blight
Summary: I was born in Jader, Orlais; a child to those of no real importance. It was at a young age that I learned just how harsh this world really is. When I awoke as a Mage; I lost my family to Templars and escaped the fate of a gilded prison. Now I wander the wilds of Thedas and The Fade itself. Can I find a Song to fill my heart. Or wake to find nothing more than a Faded Dream.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own nor claim to own the works of EA's Dragon Age or anything that may come into the following **Fan made** piece of fiction. This is meant for enjoyment alone.

"You fear Barbarians will swoop down upon you?" speech.

'_Yes. Swooping is bad._' thought/flashback monologuing.

"█▄▄██▄▄▄██▄▄█" Archdemon/Darkspawn/Inarticulate Roar/etc.

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**A/N IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ!**

**IMPORTANT PLEASE READ!**

**Alright so we know we have enough stories that need to be gotten through first. Our schedule is filled with enough to keep us busy we get it.**

**However! We aren't just writers, we are readers! And inspiration strikes us according to whatever fandom we find ourselves reading as well as what interests us at the moment. For a while now (_like several months at the very least_) we have been curious as to how _we _would do a telling of the Dragon Age story. Who would our Warden be? What Origin would he come from? Shit like that. This story is finally the answer to our questions.**

**We chose a _Seventh_ Origin. The story of the Warden 'Leon Graves.'**

**as with all Prologue Chapters that we post. It is short and meant more as a prove of concept kind of thing. A taste of the world we are trying to write and opening to see what kind of interest can arise in regard to it.**

**Please be sure to favorite and follow this and definitely leave reviews with your thoughts and opinions regarding this to let us know if this story is well received….or not.**

**The 'Schedule' remains the same, just pushed back a week. So apologies to those who were waiting for and expecting a chapter of 'Risen in Light' this week. We will have that out in a weeks time :)**

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The City of Jader was a busy place to live. As the last beacon of Orlesian before the savage dogs of Ferelden, it served as a hub of trade and travel for all walks of life within and without the Orlesian Empire. With ships coming from the neighboring nations of Navarra, the Free Marches and even as far as Rivain; Jader was a hub for diverse trade and culture. The Marquis that governed the city and surrounding region was well known to host elaborate masquerade parties whenever notable foreign dignitaries passed through. All part of the Orlesian 'Grand Game' that was their method of politics.

It was in this city that he was born. From a family of no real power or importance. His mother; an Orlesian woman and daughter of a fisherman and his father; a Fereldan trader that had fallen in love with both the city and the woman he had taken as his bride.

When his father settled in Jader he had been welcomed by the family of his new bride and even found a new job and place as a merchant selling the catch in the open market. Together the two lived a quiet, relatively blissful life.

And then they were blessed with an addition to their little family; a child of their own.

Given the name Leon; meaning Lion in Orlesian and taken from the newborn child's grandfather, the babe was a blessing to the small family within their quiet; peaceful life within Jader.

At an early age little Leon showed to be a curious child, displaying a proclivity for getting into places that no infant had any place being much to the exasperation of his worried mother and faintly amused father.

What concerned the Merchant Husband as his wife the most however; was the moments when Leon went silent. It was at seemingly random times that Leon was seemingly become unresponsive to their presence and seem to peer off into the distance. Sometimes the toddler would clap and laugh apparently at thin air or suddenly scream and cry as if in terror for no given reason.

It had concerned the parents, worried that their beautiful child was afflicted with some kind of malady. The Chantry offered the services of their healers to the public, but unless you had the coin to earn the attention and priority of the Chantry, you had to wait in line behind everyone else. And with the fact that this small family had no coin to spare; they had been forced to wait for the Chantry to see to the health needs of all those whom had petitioned for aid beforehand.

Thankfully, some time before they had even the chance to see a Chantry Healer; Leon had improved. While there was still the very rare moment when the boy would seem to look away from his parents as if looking at something only he could see, for the most part it his behavior had settled to the reassurance of his worried mother and father.

It was because of how, odd, Leon was that he had found himself the victim of bullying from other children as he grew out of infancy and into childhood. Sure he had friends; he played with the children of his neighbors and enjoyed his time greatly running around the streets of Jader; laughing wildly as he chased his friends or was chased in turn.

But it was the bully's; the children that chose to point at and torment him for his still lingering habit of losing focus and for all appearances daydreaming without apparent cause. They took pleasure in mocking him for his phases of oblivion and would often play a parody of those moments before tripping him over while 'cautioning' him to keep his head out of the clouds and watch his step.

It was what Leon was currently trying to avoid as of this moment.

His father was currently embroiled in the politics of renewing the family's commerce licence while mother kept the house in working order. This left the five year old to leave home and play with his friends. Instead of that he had run afoul of possibly the worst of his tormentors. This particular boy; perhaps three or four years older than he was currently had never been quite satisfied with simply shaming and dirtying the 'addle-minded' Leon. No this one found the most enjoyment when he could hear the younger boy cry out in pain. When he could get that confirmation that his efforts had resulted in something that couldn't be simply washed away and ignored.

Leon had come up with a plan for escape though. He was trying to outrun the bully and reach the docks. If he could get there and find the fishing yard where his family's fishing boat was currently undergoing repairs from a particularly nasty storm that had hit a week past; he would be able to seek shelter and protection from the workers there.

He so very nearly made it.

He had just come out of a narrow alleyway, no more than a few hundred feet from the piers and dry docks when he was heavily slammed to the cobblestone ground.

Sucking back in a lungful of air to restore the breath that had burst out of him from the impact with the ground; Leon absently noted the familiar taste of the salt air that wafted up from the gently lapping water several feet below the stone wharf.

"Almost made it this time."

Leon turned to face the laughing voice, peering up at the larger boy that was leering down at him cruelly even as the boys that were with him joined in with the mocking revelry.

"You that eager for a swim?" The Bully sneered, cocking his head to the side as he looked at the smaller, skinnier boy that was his source of sadistic entertainment.

The others that had come with this boy and oft joined in on tormenting the other, weaker, children of Jader took the subtle signal and spread out to surround Leon; closing in slowly to herd the five year old closer and closer to the ledge.

"Who knows, maybe the fishermen will haul you out in one of their nets. Won't be worth much though so your pa will still have to take you back home."

Leon's eyes widened as a very real sense of fear washed over him as he felt his foot brush against open air behind him. He didn't know how to swim! He wasn't old enough to go out with the fishermen and so hadn't been taught yet. If he went in, he would drown.

There was no further taunting or words spoken to him as the bully's pushed him. They just laughed as if it was the funniest thing they had come across in quite some time.

Leon felt his blood run cold as he felt his feet leave the ground and gravity take him. He was going to die. He was falling. He was going to hit the water, sink and never come up again.

He didn't want to die.

Screwing his eyes shut tight and bracing for the impact, Leon clenched his fists tightly and let out a whimper as he felt his chest constrict and the cold feeling in his veins suddenly spike. Starting from the pit of his stomach and spreading out to his fingers and toes, it was a cold very similar to the seasons when the snows of the Frostbacks drifted down during the winter months.

And then he hit solid ground. Well, solid something.

It knocked the breath out of his chest as his back smacked into it and his head hurt. When Leon did finally open his eyes as the growing realisation hit that he wasn't falling in water and was still safe, he gaped in wonder when he felt the cold, slick sensation of ice beneath his elbows and saw the gleaming white reflective surface of thick sheet ice beneath him.

It, it was like Magic.

The awe and wonder that Leon felt at seeing the miracle that had saved his life fled and the boy paled in fear when that word bounced through his head again: 'Magic.'

he had heard about Magic. Specifically from the sermons of the Revered Mother in the retelling of the Chantry's stance on Magic and specifically Andraste and therefore The Maker's truth regarding its danger.

Scrambling as carefully as he could to a wooden pier that was thankfully attached to the slap of ice he had somehow created, Leon didn't even pay any heed to the watching wide eyes of the bully's that had tried to drown him or the hushed whispers that had popped up as the five year old ran by; flecks of melting ice falling from his clothes.

XxxX

The revelation that their beloved child was magic was received better than a frightened Leon had thought. His father had been angry at the older children that had pushed his son off the wharf and very nearly into the water which would have resulted in the death of the poor boy were it not for the magical intervention. Mother however had simply been beside herself with worry for her baby. It didn't matter that Leon had magic; that he was one of the Mages that The Chantry so very nearly vilified as potential monsters and that the Chant of Light dictated should be sequestered away and made to serve the interests of The Chantry itself. There was no difference between him now and the pure, innocent babe that had been born to the world only a few short years ago. The fact that he had used magic to save his own life didn't make him some kind of monster or Blood Mage. Nor was he going to become one simply because of an extra gift.

By the time Leon had finally settled down enough to be put to bed; night had well and truly fallen. Mother and Father had been eyeing the windows and door four hours now, dreading the arrival of the Chantry and their militant arm; The Templars. There was very little chance the display had gone on unnoticed and when it came to things that were of a magical nature, the Chantry was exceedingly swift to act.

Their fears were realised when the door shook suddenly with the hard banging of a plate covered fist against wood.

Still not quite asleep; a still shaken Leon let out a squeak of fear, jumping at the noise and clutching the hem of his mothers dress from where she was seated at his bed side.

The door shook again from another round of harsh knocking and Mother urged Leon out of his bed.

"Quickly Sweetling, under the bed." She urged, gathering the beds blankets and placing them in such a manner that it partially hung down the frame to brush against the floor; providing some cover as the frightened child heeded the order and crawled underneath.

Casting a quick look to the back of the home where his wife was taking quick, long steps away from their son's hiding place, Father approached the door, steeling his nerve before plastering on as calm an expression as he could before opening the door.

Sure enough, a small group of four Templars; all clad in gleaming silver plate armor bearing the flaming sword of their Order.

"Ah, Ser Templars." Father greeted, fighting to keep his voice steady as he looked at the admittedly fierce men. "What brings you to my humble home?"

"We have received word that your son has been revealed to possess Magic." Came the reply of the Lead Templar. "As a faithful resident of Jader and follower of the Chantry I am sure you are aware of what this means?"

Father nodded carefully. "Of course. Those that are revealed to be Mages are to be sent to the Circle of Magi, no matter what their standing; be they peasant or prince."

The Templar nodded, seemingly satisfied with the response. "Then the query of our presence is explained. We are here to collect the mage for transportation to the Circle. As a precaution we are unable to disclose the location of the Circle your child will be taken to."

Father nodded once more before affecting a confused expression; drawing as much as he could from his experience as a merchant and trader. "I understand Ser Templar but I am afraid you have been misinformed. My son is no Mage. I am afraid that Leon suffers the attention of bully's from time to time. I believe that you have been lied to as an attempt to distress my son on their behalf."

By now Mother had joined her husband, leaning against him gently and interposing herself between the line of sight the Templars had on Leon's hiding place.

The Templar turned his helm covered head to the side slightly and let out a long, drawn out breath. "This is not the first time I have had to do this. You are not the first unfortunate enough to have a Mage child, nor are you the first to not wish to surrender your child to the Chantry and the Circle of Magi."

"But this _is _going to happen." The Templar continued. "Regardless of how you might feel on this now, it is for your child's own protection. Magic is a dangerous gift to possess. The threat of harming not only himself but those he loves is incredibly high the older he grows. Much less the risk of demonic possession."

Father was silent. He could think of nothing to say. It was evident that the Templar had not believed him. They knew that his son had magic and would not be convinced otherwise.

"Please!" Mother stepped forward, hands clasped together beseechingly. "He's just a baby, he won't hurt anyone. Please don't take my baby from me!"

The Lead Templar's eyes softened. It was the hard part of his duty to The Chantry and The Templar Order; taking away a child from its mother. He understood it was necessary, that it was for the benefit of everyone involved and the safety of the public that it happen. But it was still hard all the same.

He went to speak, to assure the teary eyed woman that her child would be alright; that he would grow up safe and cared for in the Circle where he would want for nothing, when one of his subordinates stepped forward.

He was a relatively fresh recruit. Only a handful of weeks out from his graduation at the White Spire in Val Royeaux and his posting in Jader and this was his first time collecting a mage-child for transportation to a Circle.

"Enough of your wailing, out of the way woman!"

Shoving his way forward the impetuous Templar bodily pushed his way into the house, shoving Mother and Father apart as he forced his way into the home. When Mother grabbed at his arm and latched on tightly, trying to stop him from getting any farther into her home, the Templar snarled and backhanded her across the face, knocking her off her feet and cutting open her cheek from the force of plate metal meeting soft flesh.

"Stand down Knight Rodier!" The Lead Templar barked, taking a half step forward to address the wilful man that had just assaulted a woman for nothing more than wanting to protect her child.

The Templar ignored the order, instead drawing his sword as an obvious threat to both Mother and Father of what would happen if they tried to stop him again.

When Mother recovered from the blow, head reeling from the concussive force of the hit and looked over to the armed Templar that was walking further into the house and as a result closer and closer to her hiding son, all she could see was a threat to her baby boy.

Father was still in shock, stunned by the events and uncertain as to how he should respond.

Mother was not.

She shot up to her feet and charged the Templar; focused on nothing more than stopping the Templar from getting any close to her baby. It wasn't even the fact that they were here to take Leon to the Circle. All she could process was the thought and fear that the Templar; Knight Rodier, was going to harm her little Lion.

The impetuous Templar heard her frantic advance. It was more instinct and training than hostility that directed his actions as he turned around and positioned his sword in front of him in a ready position. He didn't mean for it to happen when a wide eyed Mother ran full force into the blade of his sword and impaled herself clean through.

Silence ruled in that moment. Save for the wet gurgling of Mother as blood spilled from her mouth no-one seemed to even breath. When she fell to the ground; Rodier's sword slipping out of her body, Father seemed to break.

He let out a cry, something more akin to a wail of pain and grief rather than anger as he made to rush toward the fallen form of his beloved.

When he felt a heavy hand clap down on his shoulder, stopping his movements, he spun around to see the lead Templar holding him.

He didn't see the sorrow in the eyes of the man. He didn't see the regret and pity, nor the shame in the eyes of the two positioned behind him. All he saw was the sword; resting in its sheath, and so easily taken.

With a near crazed expression of desperation, Father reached out; faster than the Templar could react; snatched the sword right out of its sheath. Wrenching his way free of the Templar's grip, Father let out another cry and charged the murderer of his wife. He had no plan, no real idea of what he was going to do. All he knew was that the man in front of him had just killed his beloved and was going to take his son away.

The swing was clumsy and slow. Father was nothing more than a Merchent, fit from the travel of his youth sure, but there was no training or understanding on how to hold or even swing a sword.

Nonetheless he looked surprised when Knight Rodier swung his own sword out in response to the Merchant's clumsy attack and scored a deep, mortal would across his chest.

As he fell, Father could see the frightened, fear filled eyes of Leon; witness to the murder of his parents from his hiding place and felt a profound sense of sadness fill him. To die knowing that his son would live with this memory for the rest of his life.

Father died there. Not three feet from his wife and under the terrified gaze of his poor, orphaned son.

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	2. Showing Compassion

Disclaimer: I do not own nor claim to own the works of EA's Dragon Age or anything that may come into the following **Fan made** piece of fiction. This is meant for enjoyment alone.

"You fear Barbarians will swoop down upon you?" speech.

'_Yes. Swooping is bad._' thought/flashback monologuing.

"█▄▄██▄▄▄██▄▄█" Archdemon/Darkspawn/Inarticulate Roar/etc.

XxxXxxXxxX

Previously:

_The swing was clumsy and slow. Father was nothing more than a Merchant, fit from the travel of his youth sure, but there was no training or understanding on how to hold or even swing a sword._

_Nonetheless he looked surprised when Knight Rodier swung his own sword out in response to the Merchant's clumsy attack and scored a deep, mortal would across his chest._

_As he fell, Father could see the frightened, fear filled eyes of Leon; witness to the murder of his parents from his hiding place and felt a profound sense of sadness fill him. To die knowing that his son would live with this memory for the rest of his life._

_Father died there. Not three feet from his wife and under the terrified gaze of his poor, orphaned son._

XxxXxxXxxX

Consciousness came slow to Leon. He could not recall how or when he had fallen into a slumber, just that he had been hiding underneath his bed. Why? He remembered Mother urging him to hide there. There had been a knock at the door. Who was it? Why couldn't he remember?

Where was he now?

He wasn't in his bed, he knew that much. From the smell he wasn't even in Jader. Whatever he was resting on felt too hard and rough to be his bedding and he couldn't smell the near constant odour of fish and salt water that was predominate throughout his home.

A sudden jolt and the floor knocked him about slightly, bumping his head and forcing the boy to reach up to grasp at the back of his head where it had knocked against the wooden surface. He could feel himself shaking, almost rhythmically, side to side. Was he on a wagon?

Why was he on a Wagon? Where were Mother and Father? What was going on?

Leon shifted in his slowly growing panic and confusion, pulling himself up into a seated position and instinctively shuffling backward; seeking some kind of protection and cover.

"Easy lad. you're alright."

Leon squeaked out in fear, his eyes wide and head turning sharply to face the man that had spoken. It had not been Father's voice.

A Templar.

Gleaming silver armor with the flaming sword displayed proudly on the chest piece. There was no helm covering his face which allowed Leon to take in the man's appearance. He was old. At least older than Father. A face weathered by lines, greying short hair and a neatly trimmed beard. The Templar's eyes were a soft brown and Leon could not help but feel confused; why did those eyes seem so sad and filled with regret? Had something happened?

"Your name is Leon is it not?"

The boy nodded. "Yes sir."

The Templar nodded slowly from where he was seated; hunched forward with his forearms rested on his knees. The man seemed undisturbed by the shaking and jostling of the wagons movements.

"I am Knight-Captain Henry of the Templar Order. Do you know what a Templar is?"

Leon nodded, glancing away from the man to look around the Wagon interior. Where were his parents? "Templar's work for The Maker. They protect the Chantry?"

Henry smiled shortly, seemingly amused by the response. "Close, but not quite. Templar's protect everyone, not just the Chantry. From the Emperor of Orlais to the lowliest urchin. We even protect those like you Leon."

Leon didn't understand. Those like him? Wait, no. That didn't matter right now. "Where are my parents? Are they in another Wagon?"

The Knight-Captain tensed momentarily before his eyebrows furrowed and he leaned further forward. "Do you not recall?"

Leon shook his head. Recall what?

Henry let out a long, drawn out breath as he briefly turned his head to the side. A muttered, something, passing through his lips before the Templar returned his gaze back to the boy. "The Chantry teaches us Leon; that Magic exists to serve man and never to rule over him. It was one of the teachings the Blessed Bride Andraste left to us. Because of this the Chantry keeps and protects those who can perform magic in places that are called 'Circles'. It is where we are headed now. To keep _you _safe and protected within a Circle."

Leon blinked, slowly. He was going to a Circle? But if that was where Mages lived, then did that mean?

"You were found to be capable of using Magic lad. I, along with a small group of Templars visited your home to speak with your mother and father. To explain to them what we had discovered and what was to happen." Henry paused, a flicker of hesitation expressed on his face before he steeled his resolve. "I was able to convince them both that it was for the best that you be brought to the Circle in Montsimmard."

Leon nodded in understanding. If Mages were safe in Circles then why wouldn't he go there? "Are Mother and Father coming as well? Did they stay behind to pack before coming as well?"

Henry let out another sigh. This was something he never enjoyed in his work as a Templar. Especially when explaining the new life that awaited children; even more so when they were as young as Leon was.

"I am afraid that the Chantry does not allow any who are not either Templar's or Mages to enter the Circle." The man explained. "Both of your parents are to remain in Jader. They cannot come with you."

A moment of silence filled the wagon interior at the revelation. Leon was stunned silent as he processed what had been said and tried to come to terms with the fact that he was being taken away from not only his home, but his family. That he would very likely not see Mother and Father for a very, very long time.

"But I can see them when I get older right?" Leon asked, trying to hold onto some hope that he was get to at least visit home in the future. "When I learn to stop using Magic maybe?"

"I am afraid that will not be possible." Henry shook his head. "The Chantry is quite strict in making sure that Mages remain within their Circle. The risk is just too great for anything different. Both for yourself, and those around you."

Leon's breathing picked up, tears forming at the edges of his eyes as he tried and failed to keep calm at this reveal. That once he was brought to Montsimmard, he would never be able to leave. That he would never get to go home and see Mother and Father again.

Henry, seeing the slowly growing panic and mounting sadness in the child, reached into a small leather satchel that was positioned by his side, sifting through the contents before pulling out a small ampule filled with a murky yellowish liquid.

"Drink this lad."

Leon took the vial, eyeing it for a brief second before pulling the stopper out.

"It'll ease your nerves. It's alright."

Leon drank it swiftly. Shivering and scrunching up his face in disgust at the revolting taste. He handed the empty glass vial back to the Templar and blinked several times when he felt his head starting to grow heavy.

"It will be alright Leon. When you wake up, We'll have some supper and I can tell you all about the Circle of Montsimmard."

Leon was asleep before his head even made contact with the Wagon floor, the Templar provided drug placing him swiftly into a deep, deep slumber.

XxxX

The Wagon ran over another rock on the dirt road, causing it to jostle about sharply and caused Leon to actually leave his seat by a bare inch before falling back down with an 'oomph'. To his side, the Templar Knight-Captain; Henry let out an amused chuckle; hands gripping the reigns of the two horses that were pulling the wagon.

Leon shifted in his seat, working out the slight sting in his backside from the bump in the road as he looked from the gently smiling man to take in the surrounding landscape.

Being out of the inside of the Wagon and now at its front afforded the five year old with an actual view of where he was. Knight-Captain Henry was directing the Horses forward and seemed quite serene at this moment; a far cry from the tense man that he had woken up to before.

"It's quite beautiful isn't it?"

Leon agreed. Large fields of golden wheat stretched out on either side of the dirt road the wagon was travelling down and beyond those fields on Leon's side a lush forest with giant green leaved trees stretched up into the heavens seemingly like an unending barrier between farmland, and everything beyond.

Peaking out from the canopy of the forest, seemingly positioned in the distance beyond it, Leon could spy what looked like a castle, so distant that in the sunlight it appeared to be a shadow.

"I can barely remember a time when I was last fortunate enough to enjoy such a sight." The man commented as the boy turned his attention away from the scenery and to him. "So often have I found myself travelling along paths where all I can see are ruins and landscapes twisted almost beyond recognition."

"By Mages?"

The Templar looked away from the road ahead and down to a curious Leon; the man's eyes gleaming in the sunlight.

"Was it Mages that twisted up the places you saw? Ones that aren't safe in Circles?"

The man seemed to ponder on the question for a moment before nodding slightly. "I imagine so, yes. You will find, I believe Leon, that Mages are quite capable of affecting incredible change. Some good, some bad."

"What about me?"

The greying Templar raised an eyebrow silently.

"Am I good, or bad? Before, I mean earlier on the day you came for me, I remember falling off the pier and I felt, something weird. Then the water froze and I landed on it instead of falling into the water. Does that mean I would have been a bad Mage? Changing the water like that?"

Knight-Captain Henry peered at the boy intently for a moment, the faintest of smiles still on his face before he turned away and refocused on the road ahead. "Do you feel like one? Do _you_ think you are a bad Mage?"

Leon frowned in thought before shaking his head. No he didn't. He didn't want to hurt anyone or anything. He just wanted to stay safe. "No."

"Then you aren't." The Templar shrugged. "People may claim to know otherwise, they may believe it without reservation. But the only one who can truly know your mind, who can truly know your intentions, actions and therefore your existence. Is you."

"But what if because people think I'm bad, I become bad?"

The Templar nodded slowly, his smile lessening only slightly so at the prospect. "Not an unwarranted concern. As much as we try to fight it, we are all subject to change because of the views of others. I believe that the best way to weather such a thing, is to remember one key thing."

"And what's that?"

The older man turned back to look at the five year old and smiled in a way that seemed to fill Leon's very bones with comfort. "What is the purpose of Leon? What defines him?"

In the distance, beyond the pair on their wagon, the forest came to an end. And the castle that Leon had seen earlier, loomed, not on a hilltop or distant mountain; but on a broken and twisted island, floating free in the sky.

XxxX

Leon awoke back in the darkness of the Wagon's interior once more. A foul taste on his tongue that reminded him of that rancid drink that the Knight-Captain had offered him. It hadn't smelt like anything sinister, but the taste had been, well what Leon had always imagined fish chum would taste like.

Looking around, the small enclosed space was much darker than it had been before and the flickering light he could see through a small gap in the curtained cloth at the back that looked very much like firelight hinted that the sun and long since set.

Crawling toward the exit, Leon pushed back the cloth and looked toward the light source. True enough there was a small crackling campfire burning with three men seated around it.

One of them turned to look back and spotted the child peeking through.

"You're up lad. that's good." Knight-Captain Henry spoke with a welcoming gesture. "We're camped by a small stream, why don't you clean yourself up and I'll get you a plate ready."

Leon noticed the rabbit that the Templar's had roasting over the fire and nodded quietly, heaving himself over the edge of the Wagon and carefully climbing down to the ground. With a worried glance at the other two Templar's; who were both watching him with an almost uncomfortable level of scrutiny, Leon scurried over to where he could hear the gentle bubbling and lapping of water across stone.

Under the moonlight Leon was able to see well enough to wash the dirt that had caked onto his body in the time since he had woken up in what had at that time felt like just another day in Jader. Realistically he knew and could see that he didn't look any different than before. Short greyish white hair that was admittedly odd to many others and light emerald green eyes peered back up at him from his reflection in the stream.

It was all the same. But, it felt different. Leon could see that his eyes looked a bit bloodshot and puffy, as if he had been crying and there was a very slight scrape on his right cheek.

Had he been crying? Well he had left home and everything he had ever known so it wasn't exactly unsurprising, but still.

"If you don't hurry the food will be all gone by the time you get here lad!"

With a start and feeling a tingle in his stomach that reminded him of the fact that he was _very _hungry, Leon quickly finished washing up and hurried back over to the campfire.

Taking the offered plate, Leon moved away from the fire before seating himself. Those other Templar's were still looking at him. He didn't like it.

It was realistically a meagre meal. A few chunks of rabbit meat and a chunk of bread, but it was enough to settle the beast roaring in his tummy for now.

With his dinner finished, Leon took his plate to the stream to clean. Mother had always told him to clean up after himself when dinner was done. It was because of this, the distance between himself and the other Templar's that the five year old was able to hear a hushed conversation that the men clearly did not want him to be aware of.

"… doesn't remember?"

"By The Maker's Mercy it would seem not. I can only imagine that the boy's memory loss has come as a result of what actually happened."

"I don't like what Rodier did, but those two really should have known better. Nothing good could have come from keeping a Mage of all things in their home."

"And defying a Templar? I wonder if what Rodier did was more a mercy than what they would have faced for sheltering what would have been considered an Apostate."

"I cannot fathom any kind of mercy to be had in the senseless murder of a husband and wife who's only crime was a genuine desire to love their child. _Former _Knight Rodier will be punished for his crime and both of you will speak no more of this. I will not see this end with the boy being made Tranquil because he learned the truth and lost control."

"..."

Leon very nearly lost his grip on his plate as he felt his blood run cold. Dead? Mother and Father were dead? And, and killed by a Templar?

He fought to keep tears from his eyes, tried his very best to keep himself in check. What Knight-Captain Henry had said at the end. Something about 'Tranquil' it sounded, bad. He didn't want to find out what that was, so the boy did his best to keep himself calm.

Walking back to the campfire, the boy handed his plate back to Henry and muttered his thanks before yawning widely and loudly. An old trick he had done at home to get out of doing evening chores. One that worked well enough in this situation.

With the excuse that he was still tired, Leon thanked the men for the meal and excused himself to return to the Wagon.

Climbing back inside, Leon fought to return to his sleep as the tears that he had fought to hide broke free. Images of a man holding a bloodied sword standing over the wide eyed bodies of Mother and Father. Another Templar removing his helm to reveal the face of Knight-Captain Henry who then pushed the scary Templar back before advancing to the bed where he was hiding.

Knight-Captain Henry dragging him out from under his bed, his cheek scraping against the rough wooden floorboards. Being force fed the same yellow concoction that had sent him to sleep earlier.

Leon did not truly fall asleep for sometime. Sobbing and whimpering in the dark, alone and scared with three monsters lurking outside.

XxxX

"So who are you, really?"

Leon was looking up to the, person, who was as he had come to expect; seated at the front of the Wagon with the Horse's reigns in hand. This time he was not paying much attention to the peaceful scenery that surrounded him. Nor wondering at the impossibility of a floating castle that loomed in the distance.

Ever since he had overheard the hushed whispers of Knight-Captain Henry and his fellow Templar's those two nights ago, it had ceased to be his Templar 'captor' that he found himself next to, but an elderly woman with greying golden hair peeking out from beneath the hooded cloak that covered her form.

"Why do you ask?" The woman asked gently. "I'm here. Does it make any difference who I am?"

Leon shrugged. "Not really no. But I would like to know. You're not Knight-Captain Henry, but you were before somehow. But you weren't."

"I know. I stopped being him when he stopped being what you saw as a 'good man'." The woman explained. "But your question; 'who am I'? Not very straight forward to answer if I must say. Would you like me to tell you what others would tell you I am? Or shall I tell you what I believe myself to be?"

Leon tilted his head to the side. What did he care for what other people would say this, 'woman' was? Those very same people could be like the Templars that had him captive who would say he was just a danger.

"Who are you to you?"

"Compassion."

The white haired boy frowned in confusion. He didn't understand. "How can you be Compassion? Compassion is a feeling. M-Mother said that it was something nice people felt for others."

Compassion nodded, her glowing eyes peering out from underneath her cowl and a soft smile. "In the world of Thedas that may very well be true. But here, in the world beyond that your kind would call The Fade? I am very much that feeling your mother described."

Leon's eyes blinked before widening a fraction when he saw, out of the corner of his eye, the world around him flicker. Like a ripple of light spread out, shifting the ground, temporarily causing shafts of wheat to turn into mighty trees before returning to their previous form. The sky pulsed dark as if a cloud had, for the briefest moment, obscured the sun.

"The Fade is the place where your kind journey to in your dreams. It is also where a Mage, like yourself draws their power from." Compassion explained as she reached up to lower the cowl from her head.

Leon let out a gasp of wonder when he saw the old woman changed once more. She did not look young, but neither old. Timeless? Yes, that was the word. With a light that seemed to pour from ever part of her, Compassion could in no way be mistaken for something so mundane as 'human.'

"In The Fade Spirits of all kinds can be found. Valor, Wisdom, Justice and even others like myself; Compassion."

"A-are you real?"

Compassion laughed faintly. "Are you?"

Leon nodded. "Of course!"

"And what do you believe? Do you believe I am real?"

The boy nodded quietly and Compassion, if it were possible smiled even wider; her glow brightening to a point where Leon could have sworn, even years later that he felt warmer because of it. "Then yes, I am real."

"Why are you here?"

Compassion's aura shifted and a profound sense of sympathy and concern could be felt as she reached out to wrap an arm around the small child, gently moving him closer so that he could lean against her form. "Because you needed me to be here. I was not the only one to have heard your cries under the bed. Justice, Vengeance, Valor, Hope, Rage and countless more felt your sadness and pain. I do believe that I saw Rage give in to Despair when it could not reach you. It would seem that only I could find you at this moment."

"Can you help me?" Leon asked, his voice shaking slightly as he considered he desire he had felt ever since that night, to get away from the Templars. To not go to a Circle that was controlled by a Chantry that would have punished his parents for loving him.

Compassion let out a sad sigh, rubbing her hand along Leon's arm softly. "I am Compassion. I can offer comfort and advice, I can provide you a sympathetic shoulder to lean on and an ear to take in your frustration and anger. If I did anything else, I would stop being Compassion. Is that what you want? Would you want for me to stop being what I am and become something different if it gives you what you want?"

Leon could not shake his head more quickly. He could not give reason for it, but for some reason, just the thought of forcing Compassion to become something else. It was wrong. Bad.

"Then there is nothing I can do to aid in what you face in the waking world." The Spirit concluded sadly.

Leon looked down sadly and was set to end it, to look out to the landscape and simply take it in until such time as he woke when he heard it. A shifting creak from behind him.

"Ignore them. Those three have not the ability nor the strength to do anything so long as they reside here." Compassion said with a dismissive shake of her head.

Leon was a kid. He could not resist the urge to look. Turning he peeked through the cloth that separated him from the interior and his eyes widened when he saw the three Templars, fast asleep inside.

"Those unable to wield magic are unable to maintain awareness within The Fade." Compassion explained. "I will confess it odd that those three are here in what is essentially _your_ dream though."

"Will they wake if I touch them?"

"No. Their minds are completely unresponsive while dreaming"

Leon nodded slowly, feeling his resentment and anger at the three peak. With the knowledge that they would not be able to respond to anything, the boy snatched up a Templar Helm that was within his reach. Impulsive and with a bit of justifiable maliciousness, the five year old hurled the helm as hard as he could at the closest Templar's head. It smacked off of the man's head loudly and clattered to the floor. Not willing to risk that Compassion was wrong and that the man would wake up from the conk to the head, Leon ducked back out of sight and pulled the curtain shut. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Compassion glance down at him with a somewhat disapproving expression before it washed away.

"Did you get that out of your system?"

Leon grinned impishly, feeling a small measure of his normal self return. "I didn't mean to. My hand slipped."

"I'm sure it did."

XxxXxxXxxX

**A/N**

**So….it has been _really_ long since we last updated, well, anything really. Covid has shut down pretty much everything in our area which has made it impossible to do any writing. Recently we have been able to sort out a work around that lets us resume.**

**At this point the schedule is an unspoken victim of Covid so mourn it and with any luck we will birth a new one when the plague has run its course.**

**Hopefully with luck we will have more updates of our other works in the near future but don't hold your breath.**

**Cheers.**


	3. Tranquil Dreams

Disclaimer: I do not own nor claim to own the works of EA's Dragon Age or anything that may come into the following **Fan made** piece of fiction. This is meant for enjoyment alone.

"You fear Barbarians will swoop down upon you?" speech.

'_Yes. Swooping is bad._' thought/flashback monologuing.

"█▄▄██▄▄▄██▄▄█" Archdemon/Darkspawn/Inarticulate Roar/etc.

XxxXxxXxxX

Previously:

"_Did you get that out of your system?"_

_Leon grinned impishly, feeling a small measure of his normal self return. "I didn't mean to. My hand slipped."_

"_I'm sure it did."_

XxxXxxXxxX

When Leon awoke that next morning, he was worried. He had more or less attacked one of the Templars in his dream and if that woman, spirit; Compassion had been right, then what he had attacked was not just a figment of his dream, but the genuine Templar that had been pulled in with him.

Would the Templar know he had been attacked regardless of the fact that he had been completely unconscious at the time? Templar's had to have some kind of power if they were the ones charged with watching over and dealing with Mages after all. Leon had no real idea of what it was, but it had to be something.

These fears were for nought however. When he peeked out of the Wagon; Knight-Captain Henry having allowed him to sleep there while he had his fellows slept outside, he had felt his heart race in excitement when he saw the Templar that he had thrown the helm at rubbing at his head and complaining about a headache, but with no apparent indications to show that the man had any inkling as to what had caused it.

What did this mean? Could he vent out his frustrations and fears on the Templars in the Fade where they could not stop him and would be completely unaware of his actions?

It was this state of mind and whirlwind of thought regarding what he could do in The Fade that allowed Leon to more or less ignore the Templars as they packed up their meagre camp and resume travel toward Montsimmard.

There really was not all that much for a five year old to do; sitting in the back of a small wagon with three Templar guard as they continued along. He couldn't play or leave the wagon to run around; not even Knight-Captain Henry for all his apparent good will would allow such a thing. And given that what Compassion had said about the connection between The Fade and Mages, it would be a bad idea to deliberately go back to sleep to try and return to The Fade to spend more time with the Spirit. Such a thing would very likely be noticed by the Templars and Leon was not keen to discover how they would react.

So Leon tried something that was very odd and unexpected for a child barely old enough to count beyond his own fingers and toes. He tried to meditate. He had seen people at the Chantry in Jader doing something like that before. Visiting pilgrims who passed through on their journeys from Val Royeaux to Denerim in Ferelden would apparently spend time at the Chantry in what the Sister's called 'self reflection'. He had been told when he had asked about it that if was very similar to meditation which had then been explained to be a state of being where one relaxed their body to focus the mind.

Leon figured, if he could try meditation, try to focus his mind and ignore the boredom he was facing as well as the restless energy he felt in his body, he might be able to purposefully find the connection he had to The Fade and the Magic that he possessed.

It was hard at first, to stop fidgeting and tapping his fingers against his legs as he sat. then when he was able to properly sit still it was a task to tune out the sounds of the horses and the wheels of the wagon as they rolled over loose stones and shifting gravel. The clanking of the Templar's plate armor and their own talking was the last to be tuned out as Leon settled himself.

After perhaps an hour of trying to relax and focus himself Leon found himself, elsewhere.

He wasn't in The Fade. He wasn't in the wagon.

It was dark. Empty and open. It was admittedly quite frightening at first. There was a complete absence of all sound to the point where Leon could not even hear the sounds of his own body; the blood rushing through his ears, the sound of his breath, none of it.

In fact, the more Leon felt his awareness enter this place the more he came to notice that he didn't really feel like he had a body at all here. Like he was there, but not.

_Drip._

_Drip._

Leon 'turned'; both hearing and feeling some kind of liquid dropping and hitting something. Almost like raindrops falling into a bucket of water.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip._

More, and faster too. Leon moved his 'presence' closer to where he could feel that strange mix of noise and sensation. A steadily increasing glow of green and blue light.

_ . . ._

The raindrops increased steadily and frequently until the 'noise' had reached a level of full torrential rainfall. Then it increased beyond into the sound of a raging river. As the noise increased so too did the light that Leon could see. The green and blue light he could see grew brighter and brighter still.

Just when Leon was worried that the noise and light would reach a level where it would actually start to blind and deafen him. It all stopped.

The raging river he could here suddenly dropped to nothing more than a gentle lapping of water and the near overwhelming light show reduced itself to a simple glow.

And there, laid out before him, twisting and turning, rising and falling; was a beautiful river of light. Blues and greens, each mixing with the other but without losing their own unique intensity of color. The river of light stretched up and out into the distance where it faded to somewhere unseen.

Being this close Leon could feel it in every fibre of his being; the strength and power that rose up from this 'river' and infused itself into his very existence.

If this was not his Magic, then Leon had no idea what it could be.

Was this the magic that he possessed? Th reason why he had been forcibly taken from Jader? Why Mother and Father had been cut down because Templars had come for him?

Leon turned away from the river of light, letting the power that had poured itself into him return back to the river and allowed himself to be pulled away from it. A part of him would have liked to resent this magic. Because of it his life in Jader had ended. His parents were gone and he was being brought to a place that, despite the words of Knight-Captain Henry, felt less and less like a safe haven.

But he couldn't. It didn't feel bad. It didn't feel wrong. It felt, it felt like him.

No, Leon did not believe that having magic was wrong. It did not make him a monster or bad. So he would not be afraid of it, nor would he resent it.

With that, the boy fully turned away, feeling the pull that his mind was already naturally following that he _knew_ would return him to the wagon and followed it.

Releasing a breath that he had not realised he had been holding, Leon; as he felt himself return to awareness, was somewhat surprised to notice that he didn't feel cramped or itchy from sitting still for however long he had been. He felt no need to stretch out, nor did he feel the tingle that would come from his legs from having his legs crossed for a prolonged period of time. It was like, waking up from a perfectly restful sleep.

If only coming back to awareness was not tarnished by the sight that greeted his eyes it would have been perfect.

The back of the wagon was wide open and the three Templar's that 'taken' him from Jader were standing there. Knight-Captain Henry had a glow wafting off his arms; some kind of Templar ability maybe, while the other two had their hands twitching toward their swords.

Letting out a squeak of fright, Leon shuffled back quickly, focusing more on the swords of the two Templars and seeing visions of that monster that had murdered Mother and Father cross his mind. The strange glow that surrounded the Knight-Captain was secondary and less scary at this moment.

XxxX

Knight-Captain Henry had been quite concerned. He had been walking by the side of the wagon on perimeter watch while one of his subordinates held the reigns to the horses and the other took watch over the other side of the wagon when he had felt it. A large and very unexpected wave of Mana erupting from the wagon. The sheer scale of the Mana he could sense was unlike anything he had felt before. As a Templar he did not spend a lot of time around the various Circle's in Thedas. Most of his time was spent at Chantry's and hunting down either Apostates, Maleficarum or Magi who had managed to escape a Circle and tried to run. As such he did not spend a great deal of time around Circle Magi of varying stages of their development. But this, what he could feel coming from where he knew the boy to be? It was very much what he considered a fully realised Mage to feel like.

In fact it reminded him of the last time he had been to Montsimmard and visited its Circle. He had witnessed a demonstration performed by an Enchanter there; Vivienne. The Rivaini woman had been quite impressive in; not only her skill with manipulating magically summoned elements, but for the level of raw power she boasted.

Which was now second to what he could feel blasting out from the wagon.

Reaching into a small satchel at his hip, the Templar quickly pulled out a small vial of faintly glowing blue liquid and drank it in a single gulp. Feeling the prepared Lyrium draught vitalising his abilities as a Templar, the Knight-Captain rushed to the rear of the wagon, already hearing his two fellows making similar movements.

Almost ripping back the cover to the wagon, Henry's eyes widened in shock and a small sense of awe when he saw the boy. He was glowing. The five year old's white hair seemed to shift and move like fire and a bright lights could be seen shining from behind closed eyelids as Man continued to pour from the boy.

The Templar to his left swore and reached for his sword, not quite drawing it yet, but ready nonetheless.

Henry frowned and focused his Will as he properly turned his focus toward the boy. This was a situation that the Templar felt was far too precarious. The lad had no training in how to control such a dangerous power and he had not been taught the dangers that were to be faced by Mages. Particularly demons and possession. With this kind of power being carelessly thrown about, it was uncomfortably likely that it would attract demonic attention from within The Fade. He did not believe that he and his men were capable of handling an Abomination with this kind of strength available to it.

He could feel the Chantry-given strength filling him as he brought one of the Templar's most iconic capabilities to the forefront of his mind. Shaping his Will and Devotion into a hammer that would, by design; purge and cleanse the immediate area of Magic. In many circles this form of anti-magical offence had been given the label of 'Cleanse Area.' Quite simplistic and underwhelming a name, but in truth, something that had been the bane of many a magic user that Henry had found himself facing in his life.

He was prepared to let lose the strength he had gathered when, just as sudden as it had washed over him, the Mana pouring out from the boy stopped. Fading away like mist under a midday sun, the magical energy dissipated and the aura that had emanated from the boy eased away.

When the boy's eyes opened, it was perhaps a split second before Leon seemed to register the presence of himself and his brother-Templars. Even as Henry allowed the gathered power he had brought forth in preparation to purge the wagon of Leon's magic the boy reacted in fright and quickly scrambled back.

Henry let out a near silent, frustrated breath. Giving a quick gesture for the other two to take a step back and lower their guard, the Knight-Captain climbed up into the Wagon and steadily moved over to the frightened boy, ignoring the squeak of terror that was coming out of the child-mage. He pulled out another vial of Fade-Sleep Toxin that all Templars kept on hand; meant for situations just like this. When it was too dangerous for a mage under their charge to be kept aware but not enough for the Templar to justify killing.

It was not something he enjoyed. This kid, he had suffered enough already. So small and helpless this was not something the poor boy deserved.

But it was necessary.

With almost detached, methodical movements, Henry carefully gripped the boy by the chin and forced the contents of the vial into the boy's mouth, clamping a hand tightly over Leon's face until he swallowed.

Henry forced himself to look away from the boy and climb back out of the wagon as the kid collapsed into unconsciousness; not willing to see the look on the kid's face.

"So Knight-Captain." one of the Templar's uttered as Henry exited the wagon. "What do you say now? Still think the boy shouldn't be made Tranquil?"

XxxX

"_...Still think the boy shouldn't be made Tranquil?_"

Leon wiped at his mouth and spat over the side of the wagon front from where he was seated, trying not to flinch as those words that he had heard spoken just before he had fallen unconscious drifted over him on the wind.

Already he could feel Compassion seated next to him, as was the norm by this point; holding the reigns to the horses as the Fade-wagon continued to travel along this idyllic countryside road. Even here, in The Fade, Leon could still taste that rancid potion on his tongue. It seemed somehow even more disgusting having been forced upon him.

"What happened?"

Leon spat again and wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his tunic before looking up to the Spirit briefly. "You didn't see?"

Compassion nodded softly. "I did. But I felt that you would like to tell me yourself. It would be best for you not to hold in what you feel at this moment."

Leon sucked his teeth for a second, fighting down his anger at what had happened. He hadn't done anything wrong. He hadn't hurt anyone nor was he about to. And the Knight-Captain had grabbed him and drugged him like he was some kind of criminal.

"I wanted to feel what magic felt like." The boy finally spoke. "Those Templars took me from home, they, they h-hurt Mother and Father."

Leon bit back a sob as he tried not to think on the memories of that night that had since returned to him. In the fields to his side The Fade flickered briefly as a brief image of his home in Jader appeared, soft candlelight flickering from windows before it vanished and golden wheat continued to sway in the wind.

"I was curious. I wanted to see what my magic was like. Where was it? What did it feel like?"

"And you did." Compassion interjected with a slight shift of her eyes as she looked over to where the small boy was sitting.

Leon nodded quietly.

"It was like a river of light. It was beautiful." The expression of wonder on Leon's face shifted. "But when I went back, when I woke up I guess? The Templars were there. They were so scary looking. I-I thought they were going to hurt me."

Compassion let out a soft soothing sound as she reached out to wrap an arm around the boy. Leon accepted the comfort and turned to bury his head in the folds of Compassion's cloak, his body shaking as he cried out his fear and relief.

"T-then the Knight-Captain; h-he came up and, and he forced me to drink something. It was that nasty stuff that makes me go to sleep."

Compassion nodded in understanding. She knew enough about Templar methods of keeping control over their mages to know exactly what it was that the poor boy had been forced to ingest.

"I just want to be left alone." Leon cried. "I don't want to go to the Circle. It sounds scary now and the Templars aren't nice."

Compassion didn't say anything to this, simply allowing Leon the comfort she could provide him and watching the road ahead as she usually did. She felt the poor boy relax into her side, his breathing evening out as he calmed down.

"Compassion?"

The Spirit looked down from the road to where Leon was looking back up to her.

"What's Tranquil mean?"

Compassion tensed and for the briefest of moments her eyes burned red and the glow about her skin seemed to crack with fire before vanishing.

"Tranquil. Is a cruelty I have never seen surpassed by a creature in both Thedas and The Fade. Ever." Compassion managed to say through clenched teeth, clearly having difficultly maintaining her usual serene calm. "It is what happens to a Mage when they are forced to undertake a ceremony called the 'Rite of Tranquillity.' It forcibly and violently severs the connection that exists between a Mage and The Fade. Once made Tranquil, a Mage loses their ability to use magic and worse still the ability to feel, anything."

"Tranquil can't feel?"

The Spirit nodded firmly. "Tranquil are completely and forever incapable of feeling joy or sadness, love or loss. To those like myself, there is very little difference between Tranquillity, and death."

"_...Still think the boy shouldn't be made Tranquil?_"

Once again the Templar's voice carried overhead on the wind.

"D-do you think the Templars, do you think they'll make me Tranquil?"

Compassion didn't answer. She couldn't. How could she tell the boy that it was an almost certainty that the moment he arrived to Montsimmard he would be forced into the Rite of Tranquillity and effectively be forced into a living death. Saying that would be nothing more than cruelty. Especially when there was nothing she could say or do to prevent it from happening.

The Spirit shifted her grip on the reigns, flicking her gaze down ever so briefly to the wide eyed, frightened boy before turning her attention out to the ever present wheat fields.

"So, your Magic; You have a lot of it yes?"

Leon didn't answer right away, looking up to the spirit for a moment; noting the obvious segue from the topic of Tranquillity before frowning as he thought how best to answer.

"I, don't really know." Leon finally replied slowly. "I saw a huge river when I looked for my Magic. Not as big as the Waking Sea, but so much bigger than any river I can think of."

Compassion smiled gently, as if knowing that Leon didn't have any knowledge of rivers to make reference to. "I would expect as much; you would be as powerful as you are special. And you, my Little Lion; are _very _special."

Leon fidgeted on his seat, looking down at his lap in embarrassment at the praise. It was, nice, to be complimented and praised like this. It reminded him of times at home in Jader when Mother and Father would praise him for even the most simple of things.

As quickly as that feeling of happiness and childish pride came, they were washed away by the grim reminder of what had been taken from him. Compassion was so nice to him. Just like Mother and Father were. Before the Templars had taken them from him.

Father would never teach him to fish like he had promised.

"_...Just you wait kiddo, couple more years and I'll take you to the same spot my father took me and his father took him..._"

There was the sound of splashing and Leon turned his head to see, not a field of golden Wheat, but a narrow, winding river, water gleaming like a summer sky and fish breaching its surface. Floating across the river, a small rowing boat, two oars hanging from the side. And a single fishing rod, perched at its bow.

Mother would never cook for him her wonderful fish stew.

"...A_lmost ready, why don't you run down to the docks and grab your father...?_"

A waft of cooked fish, vegetables and herbs tickled his nose as the Wagon rolled by a familiar wooden table, laden with bowls and a cooking pot filled with steaming stew.

Leon wiped at his cheeks, feeling his eyes burn with tears as they spilled down his face. He missed his home, he missed his parents.

A cold wind washed over the country side, prickling at his skin. Heavy clouds blanketed the sky and threw the land into shadow as the sun was hidden behind them.

"..._Quickly! Under the bed...!_"

The sound of heavy banging thudded against Leon's ears, forcing him to let out a whimper and flinch into the side of Compassion; whom was gripping the reigns very tightly and fixating her own burning eyes on the road.

The Wheat field parted once again, this time revealing a rickety bed. From beneath it, hidden in shadow a pair of frightened eyes peered out, looking to Leon.

"..._He's just a baby, he won't hurt anyone…! __D__on't take my baby from me…!_"

"_...__Enough of your wailing, out of the way woman...!_"

Leon felt Compassion tense at his side. A brief burst of heat coming from underneath her cloaked form.

Several yards ahead of the wagon, a woman ran out onto the dirt road, long pale blonde hair and clad in a simple brown and blue dress dirtied and with stalks of wheat clinging to it.

Leon found himself jostled slightly when Compassion suddenly jolted forward in her seat, that near constant warmth that seemed to fill her entire being vanishing.

Leon let his tears fall as he looked across the distance to where the image of his mother stood, already hearing the savage shouts and cries of her pursuer coming from the Wheat field. Glimpses of cold steel from within those golden stalks and the sound of banging metal as armor plating collided.

What charged out from the field was no man.

Wielding a great sword wreathed in fire, this, _thing _lumbered toward his mother, nearly twice her size and covered in twisted, malformed metal plates that together seemed to assume a parody of armor. Deformed, hooked barbs and horns sprouted from this creatures helm shaped head and arms with wisps of darkness falling from joints and the pits of its eyes.

There was nothing Leon could do. He wanted to jump out and save her. He tried to. But he found himself frozen. Unable to move, unable to even look away as it happened.

A strangled, half screamed sob was pulled from his chest as he watched; helplessly, as the monster murdered his mother. Cleaved her down with that burning sword as if she was nothing more than an animal to it.

They killed her. The Templars; those monsters, killed Mother. Like she was Nothing!

"This place is a realm of dreams." Compassion spoke suddenly, pulling the shaking boy out of his fevered thoughts. Her voice sounded thick, as if she were forcing herself to speak through something blocking her throat.

"So very quickly does this Faded realm change to the dreams and nightmares of those that walk it."

Leon clutched at Compassion's cloak when the Wagon drew closer to the monster. The beast of death and darkness turned and very much looked like it was ready to attack them next.

"This, phantom, can exist only so long as you allow it." Compassion explained, looking down to him and drawing his full attention. "You are Leon, you are real. Both of these things are because _you _have decided this. What is your decision for this phantom? Is it real?"

Leon frowned, focusing on the muted warmth that was Compassion's eyes. They seemed so sad right now. But still filled with a sense of hope.

This monster; the Phantom, was it real? Did he want it to be real?

"No." The boy shook his head.

"Then what is it?"

Leon turned away from Compassion and looked over to the snarling beast, still looming ahead and flexing in futility.

"_**It's**_ _**nothing.**_"

There was no grand effect to follow, no explosion of light, or bellow of defiance from the Phantom as it happened. The creature; this exaggerated caricature of a Templar simply vanished. Like it had not even existed in the first place.

When the Wagon passed through the space that had once been occupied by that Phantom turned Nothing, Leon finally did relax and let out a breath.

"The Fade shapes itself by the whims and wills of many creatures. Spirits, Demons and oft times passing Magi." Compassion instructed gently. "But none can do so with the ease or certainty of the Dreamer."

"A Dreamer? what's that?"

The clouds covering the sky thinned and faded from the sky, restoring the bright midday sun that lit up the wheat fields in their gentle, golden glow.

"A Dreamer is a person, who can pass from the Waking World and the Fade freely and without needing to go to the lengths of other Magi." The Spirit answered. "Dreamers can walk and more often than not; shape The Fade itself to their desires. Truly powerful Dreamers could also even affect the Waking World with their actions within The Fade."

"Like what happened with that Templar before?" Leon blinked slowly, understanding reaching him as to the significance of what he had already done. "When I threw a helmet at him here and he had a headache when he woke up."

The cloaked woman nodded. "Exactly. Something as small as hitting a dreaming soul on the head will result in a headache in the Waking World. Do something more and the results can be, more severe."

The five year old nodded slowly, taking in what he had just been told and mulling over it along with everything else that Compassion had taught him since he had found himself in Templar captivity.

Only Mages were able to remaining aware within the Fade. Everyone else who entered in their sleep were completely unresponsive; locked in their own dreams.

Compassion had shown to him that he was able to pull people out of their own dreams and into his own. Something he had done the previous night when he had unknowingly pulled his captors into his dream.

Impulse forced Leon to quickly turn around and pull back the canvas curtain to look into the Wagon's interior. A brief burst of fright passed through him when he saw the armored forms of the Templars within, sleeping. The fright faded as quick as it came with the assurance that they could not do anything to him here in The Fade.

They couldn't hurt him here. They couldn't hurt anyone here. No mothers or fathers to kill. No children to steal when they were safely tucked away here in this wagon deep within The Fade.

"_**They should stay here.**_" Leon declared with a nod of conviction. "_**They should stay here where they can never wake up and hurt anyone again.**_"

XxxXxxXxxX

**A/N**

**alright so we are in a bit of a Fantasy mood right now. Which is why this story has gotten an update and not something like 'Throne of Babylon' or 'Zero Chakra Plan'...sorry to those who are wanting those two updated. We will get to them as soon as we are able.**

**Currently 'A Song of Faded Dreams' is in what we would call the 'Origin Arc'. We will be exploring Leon's well, origin and developing him as a character and his place in the world before we even so much as think of touching any of the events in the games.**

**In the games you as the player were able to play the introduction to the origins of different Wardens before making it to Ostagar. The Cousland Massacre, the Dalish corruption, the Circle Mage Harrowing to name but three. This is just a longer, more involved seventh route.**

**We do have a lot planned for Leon in the future. So do stay tuned for more.**

**Hopefully you all come to love Leon's character as we have loved making him.**

**...also, while we have no illusions as to how accurate a portrayal it has been, Leon is only five right now. So we have tried our best to make sure that his speech and thoughts are more simple and not as articulate and complex as more mature characters.**

**Hopefully we have done this well enough.**

**Please leave comments and thoughts regarding this if you feel we can do better.**

**As always, please drop a review. We would love to see this story rise in the ranks within the Dragon Age category. Favorite and follow naturally.**

**See you all...figuratively… next time!**


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